


Constellations

by TheSushiMonster



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:39:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSushiMonster/pseuds/TheSushiMonster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If Fitz has to pick between being tortured by Russian mobsters and the outdoors - okay, he'd pick the outdoors." Simmons drags Fitz stargazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr 1/5 and based on a tumblr post by aidnturner.

If Fitz has to pick between being tortured by Russian mobsters and the outdoors - okay, he'd pick the outdoors.

But if Fitz has  _any_  other option – watching some movie that Ward or Skye picked out, for instance, while still safely behind the many walls of the BUS – he'd pick that over sitting outside in the cold any day of the week.

And yet, with Simmons dragging him towards the grassy plains of an open field, Fitz finds himself outside. His jacket isn't quite as warm as it should be and his toes are already wet from the dew sticking to the grass; but Simmons rolls her eyes and lays out a blanket, the sunlight bouncing off her hair.

"Why can't we just sit in the van – "

"Because we can't  _see_  anything from there, Fitz," she says. He imagines that she's arranging their things around the corners to keep the blanket from flying away in the wind.

Meanwhile, Fitz hugs himself tighter. "Simmons, it's _cold_  – why can't we just come back later – like, maybe, in the daytime, in the summer - "

"You were the one who wanted to stargaze while we were in northwest," says Simmons, probably with a tiny grin and an eye roll as she rubs her hands together in her off-white gloves.

"I didn't mean  _outside_ ," he says under his breath, glaring at the tiny insect that hovers over his head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he says quickly, swatting away the bug when the buzzing starts echoing in his ears. "But all these bugs – I hate bugs – why can't we just – "

"Sit down, Fitz."

He does; he sits down, cross-legged and cross-armed, back hunched forward, glaring at tiny blades of grass that dance in the nighttime breeze. The sun has already set, although slivers of pink light still glow in the distance. Simmons sighs; he can imagine her slight smile as she gazes upwards, at the moon already peaking out from behind the clouds, and at the stars glittering amidst colorful skies. Fitz still stares at the ground though. "I'm hungry," he says, curling his knees towards his chest, ignoring his completely settled stomach. "I left some snacks in the van, I should go back and get – "

Simmons hand rests on his arm before he can move. "I made some brownies that we can eat in a little bit." Fitz sighs and remains still, letting her hand linger on his skin. "Now shut up, and embrace it," she says; and when she does move her hand, he looks over at her for the first time since they'd left the van.

It's funny, Fitz thinks, that he's here to see the stars; giant balls of gas illuminated light-years away, glittering like tiny specs in their night sky. Meanwhile, he sits beside a living star, an animated and breathing and _glowing_  star, whose eyes map patterns with each blink. Simmons glows in the dusk; and Fitz bites his lip when she glances over at him. "What?" she says, scratching her cheek.

Fitz smiles without really meaning to. "I guess – if you ignore the cold, and all the bugs – it is kind of nice."

Simmons grin is worth any chills and bug bites because his stomach warms; she moves closer to him, letting her head lie on his shoulder. Automatically his arm wraps around her, his hand resting on her waist. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she says. Her head is turned upward, towards the galaxies and stars and even the aliens with their special powers. But by the angle, Fitz only sees her face, framed in strands of silk, illuminated with the thoughts of the unknown. Her teeth graze her lips and Fitz forces himself to follow her gaze, mapping out a constellation from her to him.

"Yeah, it is," he says, whispering into her hair.


End file.
